When I was a kid, I had a radio that looked like this one right next to my bed. Every night I’d turn it on (it had some wheezing sounds at first) and the dial would lite up. I’d begin to turn the dial and listen to different stations until my mom would finally come in and say, for the hundredth time, “turn that thing off.”
My radio was a magic carpet. There weren’t a lot of radio stations at the time. However, I’d listen to music and radio classic programs, like Inner Sanctum, Straight Arrow, and my favorite, The Lucky Lager Dancetime hour. My radio enabled me to listen and to imagine how the actors looked, and the scenes could be anything I wanted.
There was a super radio program called “Hawaii Calls” featuring a guy named Webley Edwards. Wow, what a name. He hosted and played a wide range of Hawaiian music (which fit right in with my love for pineapple juice.) He brought the sounds of Hawaii right into my bedroom on Vallejo Street. When I first visited Honolulu, I could see and smell all that I’d imagined it to be.
Thanks to that small, fantastic radio, I was introduced to a world far beyond the one we lived in. Who knew then I’d actually explore and enjoy so many places, experiences, and people in areas I could only imagine existed when I was a child.
Sorry, mom, I’ve never actually turned off the radio in my mind.
Are we there yet? 